Hostile Heir (Hostile Kingdom: Souza Cartel Duet 1): A Dark Mafia Romance by Autumn Archer & Hostile Kingdom

Author:Autumn Archer & Hostile Kingdom [Archer, Autumn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Autumn Archer Author Ltd
Published: 2022-11-02T16:00:00+00:00

15

TOMÁS

I check my phone, three unread messages.

The most recent is from my mother about funeral arrangements. Before hers, my youngest brother Matheus is flying home and wants to know when I’ll be at the plantation, and the other message is from Shane.

One of our pharmacies was hit during the night. A few years ago, we’d invested millions into legitimate businesses to provide a smokescreen for the chemicals we need to refine the coca-paste. As usual, Shane acted fast and he’s given me the names of the motherfuckers who had the confidence to do it.

I don’t usually roll up my sleeves and take part in lower-level warfare. It’s not my style, nor is it necessary when I have sicarios on standby to deliver the message of death. But stepping up and taking over for a psycho kingpin like my father has left high expectations—and my reputation is on the line.

I’ll adopt his ruthlessness when appropriate, while adhering to my grandfather’s lessons in savvy scheming and diplomacy. Mickey Hennessy, otherwise known as Mad Mick, is a notorious Irish mafia don, who taught me there’s a place for cunning strategy and a time for brutality.

It’s those principles my brothers and I were raised by, those and the erratic, troubled rants of a drug lord.

War isn’t coming on the horizon.

It’s arrived already.

And I’m leading the army.

I stroll to the walk-in wardrobe and pick an outfit fitting for a son in mourning. It’s only right I respect Papá’s death by wearing a pressed midnight navy shirt, fitted black jeans and brand-new shoes. I leave the top button open and secure my signature cuff links in place.

Checking my reflection in the wall-length mirror beside my watch cabinet, I make sure my hair is sitting as it should and my shirt tails are tucked in. I’ve no idea why the act of buckling my belt makes me think of Carina—lately she’s the first and last thing on my mind.

And this belt could teach her a lesson or two. Not that I want to whip the spirit out of her. I enjoy her gutsiness. Her desire for sexual corruption and the horny buzz I get when I think about her plump tits brushing against every t-shirt of mine she wears.

Christ, I’m hard again. For the umpteenth time this morning. And she’s solely to blame. I should punish her for making me want to fuck her so damn much.

Just as I reposition my swollen dick, the hairs on the back of my neck lift. She’s right behind me, arms folded. The hem of the claimed t-shirt skims her lean thighs. Disheveled sable tendrils spill over narrow shoulders, sexy and wild like the fuckable siren she is. Her fiery eyes drill into my reflection.

“We had a deal.” She pads closer. “I’d like my phone now, please.” Her hand juts out in the space separating us. Expectant and unafraid of me. Adrenaline turbocharges my veins, so I’m alive with the urge to ravage the dainty beauty.

I turn into her and stare down at those big amber eyes that remind me of an exquisite sunrise.

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